Ever After
by Siognee
Summary: Hermione. Organised, Smart and unfortunatley a brown-nose. You'd think we'd have her down pat. Wrong. Hermione isn't letting on everything about her. So then, what don't we know?
1. Servent of the bones

A/N: I would first off like to tell you all that this was written by Sarida(jackrussel666) and me, and I recommend you to all read her stories. We own none of the Harry Potter characters.  
  
Ever After  
  
It was a great night in the manor's lounge room. Nice and cold. Not to forget quiet too. Nice and quiet. I seated myself on the comfiest chair there was. So what if I had to kick a house elf off it? They were meant to be working in the kitchen. And anyway, I was Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy and no-one messed with Draco Malfoy. So that was the lovely atmosphere I had around me when I started writing.  
  
Dear 'Mione  
  
Oh yeah, and first things first. I wasn't writing to Hermione Granger, mudblood and bookworm extraordinaire. Hell no! I was writing to my penpal who just happens to have that first name. She's been my penpal since I was 7. Met her in a muggle store while father was away doing some 'important business' as he calls it. I could've sworn she was a witch. Just didn't have the muggle stench about her. But I couldn't risk it. So as far as she was concerned, I was Draco who went to Arnishnath Highschool in Edinburgh. I was sitting there thinking. What could I write? I love you, I love you, I love you! were the first words that popped into my head. But no. I don't think that'd go very well. Okay, so I've fallen for a girl I haven't seen in 8 years! And one who could be a bloody muggle! Not a very Malfoy thing to go telling her now is it? So I decided to try and make her laugh. She's just the type of person that'd do that to you. Brighten up your day with one of her letters and make you laugh so hard you feel compelled to at least try to make your letter funny. Not to forget her letters seem to have this way of making me go soft sometimes. She's even managed to convince me that Golden Boy, Miss I-Just-Electrocuted-Myself- This-Morning and Weasel are actually half-way human. Didn't mean I stopped insulting them though. That was just too fun.  
  
How's your day been? My whole day was spent trying to get Pug-face (my nickname for Pansy Parkinson) off my arm and trying to convince Pea-brain and Sir Lump-alike (Crabbe and Goyle) that eating the ingredients in chemistry class was NOT a good idea. Well, that and the everyday struggles of attempting, attempt is the key word here, to get the best grades so I can please my father but never managing 'cause some girl who can only ever be recognised with her head buried in a chunk of wood always gets a better mark. Oh well, life goes on. How's you friend's pet going by the way? A budgie is he? With Nebula I always find a good way to get him to calm down is to give him a piece of buttered toast. That NORMALLY calms him down, and on the rare occasions when it doesn't. RUN LIKE HELL! Well, gotta go. Draco. XXX  
  
I figured the X's were a bit of a risk, but at least that way I'd get to see a reaction. If she freaks out then I could say it was a dare. I'd already told her I wasn't one to pass down a dare anyway. You must be wondering how come I let a possible muggle know I have a pet owl. Easy. I have to deliver the letters SOMEHOW, so I made up a story that my dad always had a strange thing for owls and he bought me an especially trained one for my birthday. Brilliant isn't it?  
  
After writing the letter I went up to my room and tied it on to Nebula's leg. I was just about to settle down on my bed and get a good dose of Servant of the Bones, great book, when I heard Binky's annoying voice.  
  
"Young Master Malfoy! Master is wanting you. A guest is here. Master says to comes in Young Master's good clothes."  
  
Someone is gonna have to bash that thing 'till it speaks decent English one day.  
  
"Yeah Binky, tell Luscius I'll be down in a sec."  
  
Great. Another visitor. Let's all play "Show-off-the-one-legitimate-son" now shall we? Who's the guest anyway? Probably just one of his whores. Poor mother, she has to listen to them all night too. Sometimes I wonder if he's really just a rabbit in disguise. I quickly throw on a black dress robe and walk down the stairs. I was right, the visitor was a woman. But wrinkles, grey hair, a wart the size of the Slytherin Commonroom? My father is a sick, sick man.  
  
"Draco," he began, as he saw me walking down the stairs. "I would like you to meet Miriam Lestrange. Miriam, this is my son, Draco." "Hello," she said, putting on a rather sickening smile. "Hello," I said, smiling back. "What an ugly wench," I added under my breath. "What was that?" my father questioned. "I said, what a lovely witch," Thank Merlin his hearing's been getting bad. Must be from that mad 'master' of his screaming his brains out all the time. "She's not one," he mouthed back. Well, at least I have the assurance that my father isn't completely blind and sick minded. So, if she wasn't a whore that must mean she's one of his cronies. Folks, the game show has switched from "Help-father-get-the-whore- into-bed" to "Make-the-cronie-feel-welcome-so-she-gets-drunk-and-tells- father-everything". Long title, I know, I only came up with it yesterday. "Well, I better go," I said, interrupting the silence. Servant of the Bones, I'm coming. "But Draco, I'm sure you'll be quite interested by what Mrs. Lestrange has to say," my father interrupted. Or not. Fair book about a lot of distress, you shall have to wait for your book reading prince for a few more minutes. 


	2. Doomsday room

A/N: I would first off like to tell you all that this was written by Sarida (jackrussel666) and me, and I recommend you to all read her stories. We own none of the Harry Potter characters.  
  
Ever After  
  
Hermione Granger lay on her bed thinking. No, she wasn't imaginative thinking, not even dreaming, just thinking. Normally the thoughts that crossed her mind were about how much she hated parts of her life, and that she'd give anything to not be who she was, but she just had to realize that it couldn't be helped.  
  
Her stomach growled as she remembered that she hadn't eaten all of her dinner. She had been perfectly fine until her parents brought up the unwanted subject. Her parents didn't know about it, all they new was that lately she had been touchy, very very touchy.  
  
Mary Granger sat at the dinner table with her family, watching her daughter sip her soup delicately. She was wondering when to tell her.  
  
Hermione looked around her house and sighed, this was home, but she new it would never last very long. Every holidays her parents made her stay at an old witches house while they went to their dentist meeting. Hermione knew that they were busy people, but now a days they never even spent any time with her. If they did, they'd realize just how much pain she was in.  
  
Her mother broke her thoughts. "Hermione, we are leaving next week, please don't be mad, we'll let you stay with the nice old lady you like." Like! Like my ass, more like it. She was a horrible horrible woman. When would her parents see that!  
  
She got up and ran from the table, her chair falling to the ground as she went. Tears started to fall and mark her top as she ran up stairs to her bedroom. There she fell to her bed in a wave of sobs.  
  
That was where she was now, still lying on her bed crying. Her parents would never understand. As soon as Hermione went to Mrs. Lestrange's house, she was made to do chores and beaten. When she wouldn't do them she was sent to a room underneath the house, locked in chains and whipped. This room appeared in her nightmares and she felt sick every time she saw it. She called it the Doomsday room. Hermione Granger, smartest in her year, top marks that almost matched Albus Dumbledore's himself, should not be made as a prisoner!  
  
Hermione would never ever let anyone know what kind of pain she was put through, especially Harry and Ron. The worst thing of all was the fact that she had led herself into this mess. Viktor Krum, she spat on the word, had taken her to his house that summer, and that was when all this trouble started. He had given her up to the Lestranges, and she would never forget it. It was the biggest mistake of her life going to see Viktor Krum, and now she had to live it up  
  
Hermione tried to clear her thoughts by going through her mail that she had found waiting for her on the windowsill. There were 3 letters. One from Harry, one from Hogwarts and one from Draco. She sighed as she picked the latter one up. She had met Draco one day in a muggle shop and they had been pen pals ever since. In the wizarding world, she hated him. He was rude, obnoxious and cruel, but through letters, he was kind and sensitive, even a little bit funny. He still thought his pen pal 'Mione was a muggle, he had some excuse for the owl, like his dad liked them, pretty lame really.  
  
She opened up the letter and read it to herself quietly, and she sighed for the second time that night. What was she going to do? She was lucky enough the Draco had never found out who his pen pal really was, let alone what she did in the holidays!  
  
She went to the next letter, from Hogwarts, and read it tentatively.  
  
Dear Miss. Granger,  
  
We are proud to inform you that you have been made a prefect at Hogwarts. Enclosed is a list of rules and regulations that apply to Hogwarts.  
  
As she read a list about 12 foot long rolled out of the envelope. Well, she would have to start reading that tonight.  
  
The last letter was just an ordinary letter from Harry, saying he missed her and that she should go and stay at the Weasley's with him. She wished she could, she really did, the last time she had was the Summer holidays before her 4th year when they went to the Quidditch world cup.  
  
She started writing a hasty reply, explaining she was going to a friends house (yeah she wished that too) and she would see him when school resumed.  
  
She lay on her bed, waves of sleep washing over her. When she eventually fell asleep, visions started coming. Back in her dreamland, she sat in class, listening to Snape go on and on. Next to her Neville's cauldron erupted, sending bit and pieces all over the room. One hit her in the arm, ripping her clothes. There everyone looked at her arm in horror somehow a Dark Mark had been placed there, and all was revealed. Then the room started spinning, and she was in the Doomsday room, chained up, with Mrs. Lestrange whipping her back. She tried to muffle her cries, but as she was whipped again, fresh tears appeared on her face. As she was hit again she let out a terrible scream.  
  
She woke, shivering and sweating with horror. 


	3. Unmanageable

"Yes, of course, father," I replied. I wasn't really expecting anything of utmost importance. Probably just something trivial like Bulstrode's father thinking of trying to betroth her to Sir Lump-alike. Good luck, even he doesn't deserve something THAT ugly. I could tell that the witch wasn't exactly knowing how to feel. Here in Malfoy Manor, a definite positive, and yet being treated with dismissively. On second thoughts, she probably doesn't know what dismissive things. "Well, actually young master Malfoy, I've come across a rather unmanageable girl you might know," she began. Oh, look at that! The hag knows a five syllable word. Let's all chuck a party. I gave her a curt nod. "A muggleborn by the name of Hermione Granger, I believe. Do you know her?"  
  
Mudblood Granger! What was she doing anywhere near the Lestranges? "Vaguely," Unfortunately. "Her parents are muggle dentists, and every year they attend a meeting overseas. Sh-" "I personally don't care about her life story, so get on with it, woman!" Preventing me from finishing a good book is NOT a good thing, especially when the cause of the prevention is an old hag who wants to tell me a mudblood's life story. "She stays at her neighbour's house during that time, where she's proven herself to be quite talented at housework. That neighbour happens to be me. I was wondering if you and Master Malfoy would like to have her for this upcoming second part of the holidays." Alle-bloody-luyah! Decent information I can use. It was times like these that I enjoyed being rich and conniving. I cast a furtive glance at my father who gave me a nod. It was my choice. I nodded back and the deal was settled. The mudblood was going to be our household slave for the break. Now, don't get me wrong. We have slaves. We're rich! Of course we have slaves. This was entirely for enjoyment purposes. Seeing Miss I-Just- Electrocuted-Myself-This-Morning working her little butt of was going to be great! When I got back there was a letter waiting for me. I decided to give Nebula an extra-special meal, I was in heaven! Dear Draco, Don't worry, you'll get those grades if you were meant to. Some people get top marks, some don't. I'm not inferring you're incompetent or anything, just saying that there's always someone out there who's better than you are. In your case, it's just unfortunate enough that you happen to be in the same grade. Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle, still being insufferable, hey? It's like my parents. They just don't seem to understand that I need to be with them sometimes. "We're your friends, Hermione," they say. Well, sometimes I need parents. You know, your letters are probably the highlight of my somewhat pitiful existence now-a-days, At school I've got friends but they live so far away I can't meet them during the holidays. It's almost like being grounded unjustly. I'm sure your father will understand if your grades aren't at the top. As long as you try your best, it'll be fine. Love, Hermione XXX P.S XXX yourself! ? A good start dear Malfoy. I was thinking about telling her about the wizarding world while I was walking up. She seemed trustoworthy, and who would believe her if she told anyway? Of course, there was the off chance that SHE wouldn't believe me and think I was a raving lunatic. That wouldn't be good. Losing correspondence with a girl like her. She doesn't come every reign of a Dark Lord. But, wait! I was a Malfoy. Malfoys ALWAYS lie and scam their way out of things. I'll pretend it was a sick joke played by someone if it didin't work. Dear 'Mione, Can you keep a secret? *********************************** A/N by jackrussel666: In case you haven't guessed, the Draco chapters are written by me, and Hermione ones by Kayla (Siognee). I hope you've enjoyed the story ' cause it sure is great fun writing it! 


	4. Collecting yourself

A/N: I would first off like to tell you all that this was written by Sarida (jackrussel666) and me, and I recommend you to all read her stories. We own none of the Harry Potter characters.  
  
Ever After  
  
It was Sunday. The day she had been dreading all year. Goodbye freedom, hello unwanted slave-girl. She had mentally been preparing herself. It wouldn't last too long after all, about 1 and half months! She groaned with frustration. Stupid, bloody Viktor Krum! She should have known no to trust a student from Durmstrang! Too late to think that now anyway. She had previously thrown all her belongings into her trunk, and finished her homework, not to mention reading the Hogwarts prefect list. 274 rules! She had had to revise them all.  
  
She stood in front of the mirror, examining herself. She couldn't say she was as pretty as a picture, but she would have to do. Tugging her trunk down stairs she took a last look at the place. It was her home, yet she spent less time there than at Hogwarts or the Lestrange's. It was a beautiful house, and it reminded Hermione of herself. Neat, trim with everything in order, except for the slight exception. Without realizing she had reached the front door and standing in front of her parents. She stared at them and they stared back, though they looked quiet uncomfortable under her gaze. Her father shuffled forward and embraced her, planting a kiss on her cheek.  
  
"Good-bye Hermione dear, I will see you next holidays. Don't forget to write to us, we do love hearing from you."  
  
"Yes dad, of course I will. I like it when you write too."  
  
Her mother picked up her trunk and carried it outside to the car. 'This is it' she thought gloomily. She sat herself in the passenger seat and waved goodbye to her father. The engine rumbled into life and they were off, more dull thoughts filling Hermione's mind.  
  
It had been half an hour and not a word had been spoken. Mary kept glancing side-ways at Hermione, though never said anything. Eventually the silence became too much for her, what was her daughter playing at?  
  
"Hermione, please. tell me what's wrong."  
  
Hermione looked up at her mother's worried expression and wanted to tell her everything. The whole story of what she had gotten herself into, and how miserable she was. But she had kept it to herself for so long for a reason. If she told her parents they would try and talk to the Lestrange's, who worked for Voldermort. They would hurt them, remember they are muggles, then they would punish Hermione even more. Or they would take Hermione out of the wizarding world, which she loved so much. It just wasn't worth it. Anyway, in two years she would be an adult, and then she could have her own say over the matter.  
  
"No mum everything's fine," she had to try and keep the disgusted look off her face," I was just thinking that I never get to see you guys much anymore."  
  
"Oh sweetie, I know, but these dentist meetings are very important to us. If we don't go we would probably lose our jobs."  
  
"Yeh mum. I know"  
  
A couple of minutes later they reached the Lestrange's. Hermione looked up and down the house. It had hardly changed. It was still the 3-story mansion she had grown to hate. Vines ran wildly up the walls, and the paint was peeling off the window frames. The windows them selves were cracked, and the brown bricks were covered in black filth. The mouldy green curtains were closed, like always, and the weeds had spread everywhere in the garden. Only one thing seemed different. There was a butler at the door. This was weird because their butler was made to wait on them hand and foot, since when did he get the time to go and waste time by sitting at the door?  
  
As the car pulled into the driveway, Hermione realized it wasn't Alfredo, the Lestrange's butler, it was someone else. This one had a smooth moustache and a sleek hairstyle, all gelled back, he looked a bit French.  
  
Together Mary and Hermione walked out the car and approached the front door. Hermione, feeling a bit queasy, hid behind her mother as the reached the mansion entrance, Mary having no idea of her daughter's strange behaviour.  
  
"Hello madams, what may I do to be of a service?" His voice nearly sounded as oily as his appearance.  
  
"Look at that Hermione" Mary whispered, "You'll be treated like a queen!"  
  
Hermione sunk inside. if only the floor could swallow her up.  
  
"Sir my daughter will be staying here for the rest of the summer, is Mrs. Lestrange here?"  
  
"Yes she has told me to bring the girl.. I mean this young lady, right in to her room." He smiled slyly, "There's a wonderful surprise waiting for her there."  
  
Hermione greased him off, obviously something she wouldn't like.  
  
"Ooh Hermione, you are being spoiled, I better let you get to it!"  
  
Not all surprises were good, when would her mother realize that! After a hug and a wave her mother was slowly fading into the distance.  
  
Hermione silently prayed, 'Please don't go mum, please. turn around, come back - come back for me." But like every other year, she didn't, just kept driving.  
  
"Oi. Gurly. Inside now, Mrs. Lestrange wants a word." Unusual. very unusual. Normally she would meet her at the front and send her to work. Hermione she was hoping for too much, but maybe, just maybe, she had changed.  
  
She dragged her stuff through the dimly let entrance hall, and turned a right and went up the stairs. Under the stairs was the entrance to the Doomsday room. Hermione couldn't help glancing at it on her way. After hauling her trunk up the stairs (each time with a load clunk as it hit each step) she found her so-called room. To others it would look like an old closet with a box and rug on the ground, but hey. it was almost better than the floor. On her entrance she saw Mrs. Lestrange standing by the door. She hadn't changed over the summer (unfortunately) and she looked as stern as ever.  
  
"I will dispose of you this summer." She said flatly. Hermione's mind raced. This could mean one of 3 things. One. She was going to kill her or something horrible. Two. She was gonna let her go (highly unlikely). Or three. Give her to someone else. Unfortunately it was the latter.  
  
"The Malfoy's have decided they needed you."  
  
Hermione's thoughts whirred around her head at a hundred miles per hour. That is. just be she fainted. 


End file.
